


Wanted, By Everyone But You

by Magikkittenz29



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Western, Blood and Injury, Bounty Hunters, Cowboys & Cowgirls, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone is neutral to an extent, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Hostage Situations, Idiots in Love, Multi, Not Beta Read, Shooting, Unsympathetic Sides (Sanders Sides), Will update tags, alternate universe - cowboys, but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28319715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magikkittenz29/pseuds/Magikkittenz29
Summary: "Why the long face? Did you want to be in the same room?" he asked teasingly.Virgil still fixed him with that glare, though it was much less vicious with that reddening face. "We're going to get caught idiot!""Shhh, no we won't," he said assuredly.-----------It's a cowboy au folks
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Sleep | Remy Sanders
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	1. You're Here For A Reason And You Don't Know Why

"Hurry up!" Virgil hissed, sounding very panicky. They paced back and forth, fiddling with their leather gloves and their bandanna in what seemed to be a practiced rhythm. "What's taking so long?!"

"If you _ helped me _ maybe this process could be coming along much quicker," Remus shot back, gritting his teeth as he tried his best to haul the crates and barrels into the wagon.

Virgil stopped his pacing and sent a sheepish look at their partner and went to carry the rest of the goods, hefting them over their shoulder with ease.

Remus snorted, rolling his eyes. It was rather comical how cowardly and skirmish the tall, imposing individual was; if Remus was half that strong, he wouldn't hide from anyone - or anything.

He placed his hands on his hips and looked up at the half-empty warehouse, sighing with satisfaction. No doubt that come morning, the owners of this fine place will realize the missing contents, but Virgil and him would be out long before they even step foot in these grounds.

"C'mon!" Virgil whispered and covered their mouth with their bandanna, leaping into the wagon amongst the barrels and crates.

Remus jogged over and sat at the front, readying the horses. With one snap of the reins, they were off, headed out of town.

As they followed a trail that stretched for miles and miles, Remus wondered briefly why Jan would send a team so far out just to get some cheap, watered down booze. Was there a particular reason they had to travel so far? Surely there must be; Janus never did anything without reason.

As they continued forward, Remus fought to stay awake, dozing as the steady pace of the horses lulled him. He slapped his cheek a couple of times, trying to listen to the inane thoughts in his head instead. Usually he didn't indulge in them too much, but he couldn't fall asleep at the reins - Virgil would never forgive him.

When dawn neared, Remus was fully exhausted, but he tried to ignore it, seeing a small little stop up ahead. A modest town with few permanent residents; they could stop there.

He found a small lot that he parked the wagon into, handing the horses over to a caretaker to get them fed and watered; he had to pay them a lot of coin, but he supposed it was alright, knowing the horses were in good hands.

Virgil got out the back when the coast was clear and the two headed into the nearest inn, desperate for sleep and food - and maybe some booze.

The inn was bustling with people and Remus was forced awake by the loud chattering. There were a few tables and booths around the room as they walked in, people occupying most of them. Food wafted into his direction and he salivated, positively starving now that he got a smidgen of what food he could get. But before he could move to indulge, Virgil stopped him with a firm hand on his wrist.

"Look," they said, and tilted their head towards a bulletin board next to the inn's doors.

On it read 'WANTED: REMUS KING and VIRGIL TEMPEST' in large bold letters. And while the posters were rather intimidating, the figures on there weren't too accurate nor seeable (they were rather smudged). Not to mention there was no reward for their capture, which meant no one would really give a damn about them. Remus sighed a little and raised an eyebrow at his partner, looking unamused.

"Relax, no one will know or care V," he whispered, nudging them a bit. "And I'll just sign us in as some other name."

With that, he walked up to the front desk, leaning casually on it. "Two rooms please, under the names Barnaby and Victor."

Remus could practically feel the burning glare of Virgil's stormy eyes.

"Alright, that'll be 10 gold per room," the innkeeper said, sounding bored. 

Remus grumbled as he handed her the money, then quickly received two keys. He grabbed them and tugged on Virgil's wrist, bringing them up the stairs into the rooms.

"Why the long face? Did you want to be in the same room?" he asked teasingly. 

Virgil still fixed him with that glare, though it was much less vicious with that reddening face. "We're going to get caught idiot!"

"Shhh, no we won't," he said assuredly, and led them to their rooms.

\------

The next thing Remus knew, it was morning. He tossed and turned in his cot until he was sitting up, and then, he stretched, screeching in an unholy manner until he felt satisfied. He looked over as clothes, glad to see no one came into his room to steal something (something that happened on occasion) and he started getting ready for the day. There was a quick double check after he had changed, fixing on his clothes with efficiency before grabbing his key to walk out. 

Only to slam into Virgil, who was already waiting for him outside his door it seemed. 

“We have to get going-“

“Uhp! Nope, don’t start,” Remus said quickly, stopping them from saying anything. “Listen, you need to  _ relax _ Virgil. We don’t need to leave right away.”

“We were supposed to get the shipment in by the end of the week Remus,” Virgil seethed. “And who kept getting lost and losing time?  _ You _ ! Guess how many days left we have Remus?  _ Two. Days. _ ” They jabbed their finger into Remus’ chest for extra measure in their enunciation. 

Remus winced but carefully pried Virgil’s fingers away. “Exactly! We have  _ two days _ , we can get there! I know where I’m going this time,” he reassured, but his partner didn’t seem convinced. “We can stay for another few hours, maybe play our hand in a few games-“

“No! Absolutely not. We are not going to  _ bet _ Remus!” they shot down immediately, looking around the hallway anxiously, as if their slightly altered volume drew attention. 

“V, c’mon, have I ever lost a game?” Remus inquired. 

“Yes,” they said dryly, staring at him deadpanned. “You have.”

“Ah but but but! Only ever against Jan! And you know he’s quick with his hand - don’t take that out of context.”

Virgil pinched their brow and pressed their mouth into a thin line. They were slowly beginning to become convinced, Remus could tell.

“You know Jan would appreciate the extra cash,” he threw in for good measure. He watched as the gears turned in his associate’s head and finally, they turned to Remus with a resolute stare. “Fine. But if you lose I won’t hesitate to throw you into the dust.”

“So little faith,” Remus said with mock hurt. He brushed his lapels off and headed down stairs. 

He was only mildly surprised to see the establishment so busy still, but that was fine with him. He pulled his bandanna back up and strolled over to a table of gentlemen, all hunched over with cards in their hands. 

Virgil leaned against a wooden beam, watching him closely as Remus walked over, tilting his head at the group. “Got room for one more?” he drawled.

“Got something to add to the loot?” one of the men asked, tilting his head towards the large pile of coin. 

Remus pulled out a bag of the savings he had for their journey and placed it into the pile. Pointedly ignoring the seething glare of his friend, he settled between the group, grabbing some cards for himself. 

He had a game to win. 

\------

Three rounds in, Remus was winning. Virgil could fret all they want but Remus knew his skills. “It seems you gentlemen are at a loss,” he said, cackling. “Want to add more perhaps? Try your hand again?”

But before he could get an answer, the doors to the inn slammed open, a cloaked figure walking in. 

They headed over to the front desk where the innkeeper stood and they talked with her a good while before she turned and pointed at Remus. 

A bounty hunter. 

Virgil seemed to realize about the same time and quickly tugged their bandanna over their mouth, Remus doing the same. He gave the gentlemen at the table a wry glance and took as much keepsake as he could. “Fun game we had fellas! Maybe we can bet again sometime later!” he called out, then booked it out of the inn, with Virgil following suit.

The two hurried over to the stables, not bothering to look behind them. There was a scramble over to the horses as they picked out their own two steeds, quickly strapping their horses to the wagon with as much haste as possible. Dismissing the loud protests of the stablehands, Remus snapped the reins and they bolted out of the small town.

“Goddammit Remus,” Virgil said, breathing heavily as they made it to the trail leading into the mountains. They hit Remus against the shoulder, then continued the barrage of hits.

“Ow! Ouch! Okay I get it! Stop! At least we got the cash, alright?!”

Virgil fixed their gloves, one hand on their pistol. “I swear if they have a horse-“

The sound of galloping filled their ears and they exchanged panicked looks. 

“Remus!! I’m going to  _ kill you- _ ”

“Not if they kill me first!” he responded panickedly, trying to urge the horses to hurry their pace. 

But the bounty hunter neared closer and closer with each stride and Remus knew that inevitably, they would be caught. The sound of hooves filled his ears, and he tried to focus on the steeds in front of him,

Then, he heard a shot. Oh yeah, Virgil had a pistol. 

But then there was a louder, more prominent shot, and the whole wagon wobbled, threatening to tip over. The sound of wood splintering filled his ears.

The horses nearly reared back at the noise but Remus pulled tight to keep them steady, his heart pounding in his chest. 

“They’ve got a gun!!” Virgil shrieked, ducking as another shot was fired. 

“Yeah no shit!!” Remus said, trying his best to urge the horses forward. 

There was one more shot, and then everything became blurred.

The wagon flew forward, effectively launching Remus along with it. It bounced a bit against the coarse ground before splintering onto its side. The horses fled, whinnying their poorly secured harnesses braking as the wagon collapsed. 

Remus landed hard onto the ground, his jaw almost breaking at the harsh impact. He stood up as quickly as his dizzying vision let him. 

Virgil was already up, looking a bit battered, but none too worse for wear. 

But that didn’t matter, the bounty hunter was nearing quickly. 

Many things went through Remus’ head in this one moment; 1. Were they to run, they would surely be caught 2. Were they to stay and fight, they would surely be caught - or killed 3. Were one of them to run and divert the hunter’s attention, one could get away...

With a quick shove. Remus pushed Virgil into the remains of the broken wagon, effectively hiding them away. He mentally apologized for the rough treatment, and then he ran as fast as he could towards the brush of the plains. 

He pushed himself as hard as he could, feeling his lungs blazing and his legs straining. The only thing that stopped him from slowing was the steadying, nearing sound of hoofbeats behind him. 

Just a bit more, a little bit more in the brush and he'll be fine! Just a little bit more-

There was a shot, then a searing pain in Remus’ right side. 

He collapsed into the dust, wincing and groaning. He tried to scramble up, clawing his way onto his knees despite the horrible ache in his side. 

He frantically tried to stand as the sound of the horse got nearer, but coupled with his wound and the now monstrous headache, he collapsed again. 

The attacker got off their horse, walking over to Remus with a slow and menacing pace. The latter tried pushing himself up again with his arms, but the offending hunter pushed him back down with their boot, causing him to cry out as another bolt of pain coursed through his body. 

He gazed up at the figure, trying his best to glare, but all he could see was the sun's harsh glow, and then...nothing.

\------

Remus woke up with a throbbing headache, all his senses muddled. He groaned and shifted, moving his arms only to realize they were tightly bound behind him...to a tree.

Great. Wonderful.

He tried tugging himself right, to strain the tether, but that only reminded him of his wound and he bit back a strangled scream, ceasing his movements and slumping.

"I would stay still if I were you," came a low voice. Remus' eyes cleared, settling on an intimidating figure. They weren't too tall - not as tall as Remus at least - and they held themselves in a stern way, a disciplined way. The most noticeable thing, however, was the bandage over their eyes.

A brown cloth encircled the top part of their face, clean and well kept. If Remus squinted, he would be able to see the small beginnings of scars peek out from behind the fabric, but focusing too hard would land him with a nauseous stomach and a worse headache.

"Stop staring," they snapped, to which Remus quickly looked away, startled. Surely they couldn't see...could they?

Remus watched with interest as they grabbed a canteen, walking back over to the other. They knelt down and tilted the criminal's head up, forcefully holding his chin. Then steadily tipped the canteen and the water flowed slowly.

Parched and tired, Remus lapped up as much as he could before the can was taken away.

"Now don't move," ordered the hunter. Remus watched as they went over to their steed, petting her flank before grabbing a roll of bandages out from the side satchel. They walked back over and Remus - because he could - promptly stuck out one leg in front of the hunter's path.

To his astonishment, they stepped over it, and Remus was met with a scowl and sharp blow to the head; he sorely regretted this little trip up (heh) as it added to the horrible headache.

"Stop testing me, I don't have to bandage you up," they said with a glower that almost matched the one Virgil used to make half the time.

Oh, Virgil. Remus hoped they were okay.

"Then don't," Remus rasped, deciding to shut his mouth after that response as it elicited another tang of pain.

He heard the other scoff and he felt his shirt forcefully pulled upward, causing him to squirm and wince.

"Already?" he breathed, yelping as the smell of alcohol hit his nose and burned his skin. "W-We just met."

They ignored him. Remus saw a long tweezer emerge in their palm, and moved it closer to his wound. 

He tried to inch away but a strong hand pinned him in place, and slowly, the hunter began to take that bullet out of him.

And  _ hell _ did that hurt.

Remus refused to scream out and bit his lip so hard it bled.

After an excruciating few minutes - which felt like lifetimes - the hunter fished out the bullet, throwing it onto the ground. More alcohol was poured to clean his wound and Remus nearly screamed once more, his whole body shaking and sweating.

"You- fucker," he gritted out.

The hunter paid him no mind, going to bandage him up with calm, practiced movements.

Remus stared, unblinkingly at his surroundings, sighing to himself and dreading the days to come.

What would happen to him? Was this bounty hunter going to take him to the sheriff? Or worse...what if they took him to some gang? What would they do to him for information? He gulped, trying not to think about it too hard.

The steady hand by his waist stopped and Remus realized that the hunter had finished cleaning up the wound and they moved away, back to the horse to return their supplies.

There was some tranquil silence that extended over the two, but after a while, Remus couldn't help but blurting "What happened to your eyes?"

A mistake, he quickly came to realize.

They seemed to glare without a piercing stare, and they turned back, focusing on making camp in their small little area.

Remus fidgeted, begrudgingly feeling better thanks to the fixed wound. It was getting dark, which meant Remus had probably passed out for a good portion of the day - not too bad.

He figured he should at least  _ try _ to escape, but with the dulled ache in his side, the ever continuous pounding of his head, and the sudden onslaught of fatigue, he found he didn't want to move, much less get up.

He tilted his head back against the tree, closing his eyes; this bounty hunter would get  _ one _ easy day with him - only one, then, he'd make it hell for them.

But for now, a nap was in session.

…Until it wasn't.

Remus was rudely woken up by a harsh nudge (if woken up was even the word - he barely started sleeping) and he looked up blearily, gazing up at the cold person.

"You know, I was trying to get some res-"

"You need to eat," they said, handing Remus an apple. He looked at the newly created fire pit, which was currently cooking some beans; that sounded a lot more appetizing. 

But if he learned anything from Jan, it was to be thankful for what he had (nah it was to lie and cheat your way out of anything and everything you could if it benefited you) and so he took the apple, holding onto it with his teeth.

Remus gave his captor an unamused stare (was this person really going to go through such lengths to humiliate him? Not even allowing him to eat with his hands?), to which the other was alerted to and they worked one hand out of the restraints.

"Don't even think about breaking out of those," they warned. They pulled out a sharp dagger from their belt and placed it just below Remus' pulse.

The warning was rather sufficient without the knife in Remus' opinion.

With his one hand freed he took a bite of the apple, trying to eat slow enough to not seem a threat, but fast enough to not give the impression of mocking this hunter.

When he finished as much as he could, they slowly lowered the dagger, sheathing it back in their belt. They roughly grabbed Remus' wrist and tied it back behind him.

That was that, it seemed, as Remus watched the bounty hunter resume their seat by the pit. They lifted the pot of boiling beans off the fire and set it beside them on the ground, being careful with the heat. Remus wondered - not for the first time today - how they were so attentive despite their loss of vision.

Caught up in his thoughts, he almost didn't notice the noise coming from his stomach or how he salivated at the sight of cooked beans.

Almost.

"Oh? You're still hungry?" they asked, though Remus could hear the smirk in that statement.

He turned away in defiance. "I am  _ not _ ," he said, as though trying to convince himself.

Remus watched as they gave a shrug and started eating the beans with slow, savoring movements; what a bastard. His restraint could only hold for so long before it snapped - and lo and behold it did.

"May I have some? Please?" he begged, trying to imagine beans.

"Oh? So the criminal  _ does _ have manners," they remarked, snootily.

Remus scowled, but that off hand statement didn't deter him.

"I want some," he stated plainly.

"I can tell," they responded dryly, continuing to eat at their slow pace. "Maybe if you beg like a good little mutt I'll let you have some."

Remus scrunched his nose. "Never!" he spat.

Half an hour later, he begged.

  
  
  



	2. Catch Me If You Can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escaping has proven futile...well, somewhat

It was morning when Remus awoke again, groaning. He accompanied the hunter in their tent, but wasn't given the luxury of having a mat to sleep upon. He slowly sat up, his hands still bounded - the only difference was now they were in front of him.

Well that changed things a bit. 

He looked over next to him, not surprised to see no one present; the hunter was most likely outside already, fixing up some breakfast before readying to head off again.

For safe measure, Remus poked his head out of the flaps on the tent, peering around.

He didn't see anyone, which might've been a good thing. 

As quickly and silently as he could, he rushed over to the horse, frantically digging through the satchels in search for a dagger of some sort - anything to get him out of these ropes.

At last he found a small skinning knife, used for fruits and such, and he hurried, getting rid of the bounds. He sighed as red marks were imprinted in his skin, but it wasn't half as bad as his gun hole.

For one quick moment he looked around again, relieved to see no one here. With one more shifty glance, he untied the lead from it's post and mounted the horse, snapping the reins.

The horse seemed entirely disinterested in his attempts.

"C'mon!" he hissed, snapping the reins again, but once more, the horse stayed put.

"I see you're already ready to head off?" came that chilling voice.

Great.

"Y-yeah," was all Remus could utter as the bounty hunter made their way closer to him. They clapped what would have seemed like a good-natured pat on the shoulder but Remus winced as their grip grew tighter.

"You better get down right now, or when I'm done with you, you won't even have hands to restrain," they said lowly, promise in their words.

Remus - for lack of a better word - fell off the horse, scrambling to his feet. He ignored the mocking laughter and held his hands together, not complaining as he was restrained once more.

There was attempt number one.

\------

Attempt number two was interrupted - rudely if Remus was being honest - by the promise of journey ahead of them. Remus caught the bounty hunter neatly packing their things.

He was half expecting some berating for his failed attempt, but the hunter stayed silent, simply walking over to the rope that bound him to the tree. They went behind Remus and roughly untied the rope - to Remus’ elation - then promptly tied his hands to the front of the saddle - much to Remus’ dismay. They then mounted the horse, snapping the reins.

“Hey! Wait! I’m not on the horse yet, what, are you just going to make me walk?” Remus asked, realizing his current position distressingly. He chuckled nervously by nature.

When he didn’t receive a response or acknowledgement, his stomach dropped. “W-wait! You’re just going to make me walk? The whole way?!”

“Not the whole way,” they mused, smirking. “If you apologize for your feeble attempts to escape, I might consider letting you ride.”

What a fucker.

The silence that stretched between them answered that question, and Remus trudged sullenly beside the horse, keeping a good eye on the steed; the bounty hunter could break into a gallop at any moment - he best be alert for that moment, lest he get dragged a good 2 miles. (He doubted the sadistic hunter would even care, seeing as they relished in his humiliation and suffering).

The horse was brought to a trot and Remus was forced to jog, keeping up with the animal as best he could; the pace didn’t waver and he sighed, knowing he had a long day ahead of him.

He could practically hear the berating voice of his partner, yelling at him to ‘just apologize you egotistical prick!’ but if Virgil knew anything about Remus, it’s that he was stubborn as hell.

Well, mostly.

Around noon he started to tire - his lungs were burning and his legs were tired and shaky. The sun was beaming down on him, and the sweat rolling off him did not help his parched throat. About every hour (was it every hour? Remus was more concerned with trying not to collapse) the captor would ask “Give in?”

Remus spat a ‘No!’ each time, but each time it was asked, his fervor lacked more and more. Thankfully the horse was back at a walk - probably just as tired as Remus was - and they slowed their pace. The hunter took out their canteen, drinking their water with an over exceeding amount of haughtiness that did not escape Remus’ attention. He watched as the water was - purposefully - spilled, leaking down the column of their throat.

So much wasted.

He looked away, down at his feet, trying not to think about it too much. Who was he if he couldn't walk for miles without water?

Just when Remus’ heart rate slowed down, the pace sped up once more, catching him off guard. He yelped as he tripped over his feet, falling onto his back. He winced at the reminder of ‘oh, his wound is still existent, right-’ but barely had time to acknowledge it, letting out a panicked cry as he was suddenly dragged across the ground.

Thank god for his leather vest.

He still felt every bump of the road and every rock, brush, and twig, but at least his shirt wasn’t getting torn to pieces and his back ravaged like a particularly frisky lover got their hands on him.

He heard the amused laughs coming from the rider through the loud noise of galloping hooves and coarse dirt rubbing against him and he gritted his teeth. He dug his heels into the dirt as he was dragged, trying to stop himself - or the horse - from continuing; he reckoned he just ruined his spurs and some of his boot.

Then, he hit a rock - a well-sized rock at that. Right in the head, then his shoulder. He winced, trying to ignore the bright stars dancing in his vision. He looked behind him, seeing multiple obstacles in his path - none of which excluded rocks - and he yelped, trying more desperately to avoid this horrible fate.

He was barraged with a series of thorny bushes and rocks before he caved, tugging on the rope desperately and still, futilely, digging his heels into the ground. “Okay! Okay! I’m sorry!” he said as loudly as he could, panting and wincing as another rock hit him.

Slowly but surely, the speed gradually steadied, then stopped and Remus had to sigh with relief, slumping on the ground tiredly. His back was going to kill him later.

The bounty hunter got down, leaning over the thoroughly battered criminal with a smug expression - an expectant expression.

Remus hissed a breath through his teeth and turned to one side, staring at a lizard that happened to be nearby. “I’m sorry,” he grumbled. 

There was a cooing noise and one bandaged hand came up to his cheek, patting it mockingly. “There we go, that wasn’t so hard was it?”

Remus glared as best as he could, and slowly pushed himself up. He watched as the hunter mounted the horse, then scooted a bit forward, patting the back of the saddle. “C’mon, I’m a man of my word,” they said.

There was definitely doubt running through Remus, but he was too tired and bruised to complain, so he joined the horribly self-satisfied hunter on the horse and then they started off again.

It didn’t take long for the rhythm of the horse to slowly rock Remus into unconsciousness (could you blame him? He just walked for 4 hours straight) and he slumped against the other’s shoulder, closing his eyes and letting sleep envelope him.

\------

The rest of the ride was nice and soothing - not to say the hunter’s presence was anything like it - and Remus tried his best to keep his distance from the fellow rider despite the limited amount of room on the horse.

They made it to another small town, this one a lot less busy than the last, and the hunter pulled over to one of the stables, letting their horse rest. They gave the stable boy some coin and gave him a pointed look as his gaze trailed over to Remus and his secured hands - though when faced with an individual wearing an ominous face covering, the bondings didn’t seem too eye catching in comparison.

There was a tug and Remus got off the horse, his feet hitting the ground heavily. His back was hunched over as he was led out, and they headed towards a saloon.

It was quiet inside, a vast difference from when Virgil and him - god he missed Virgil - were at the other town. There were lingering stares all around the establishment, but the hunter only indulged in one gaze, heading over to them. Once again, Remus was baffled by the captor’s ability to seek out what they wanted to without their sense of vision.

He was tugged over to a small circular wooden and was sat down forcefully onto the small stool. There was a bespectacled face peering down at him and his hunter and Remus felt a sliver of unease.

“Remy,” greeted the newcomer and Remus blinked a bit, looking over the hunter whose hands tightened ever so slightly on the rope.

“Patton,” Remy got out, their tone deep and near monotone.

“Remus,” he himself greeted as well, his head bobbing up to meet the blue eyes of the stranger.

Patton gave a small chuckle and beckoned one of the barmaids over, ordering a couple of drinks for the three of them. Mighty thoughtful for someone who seemed to align themselves with the law (Remus caught the flash of a small badge tucked on the left side of Patton’s shirt).

“So then, this is him? The one we’ve been trying to catch for over a year?” Patton asked casually, as if they were discussing coffee flavors.

Remy carefully nodded, stiffening when the barmaid returned with their drinks. She gave a little wave to Remus - he winked back in return - before she walked away back to her station. He grabbed his booze - no doubt watered-down - and drank as much as he could in one gulp; it was one of the only things he had to drink today.

Patton gave a chuckle and sipped his. “Slow down there, we don’t want you choking before we hang you in the gallows.”

He froze at the easy-going tone and the horrifying statement that came with it. “I’m sorry?” he peeped.

“Did you think you  _ weren’t _ going to be tried for your crimes?” Remy asked dryly, inclining an eyebrow. They didn’t touch their drink.

“In all honesty I was expecting to get away from here long before now,” Remus admitted, desperately wishing he hadn’t finished all his alcohol. His fingers thrummed nervously on his thigh as his eyes darted back and forth. Everyone minded their own business, seeming to avoid looking in their table’s general direction.

Who exactly was Patton?

“Well I’m afraid we made you put your hands where we could see ‘em,” joked the maybe-sheriff, taking another sip from his cup. “And now you’re going to have to face the consequences of your actions I’m afraid.” Patton gave a little pitying look.

He didn’t sound too regretful at all in Remus’ head.

“C’mon, cut to the chase,” Remy said, standing up abruptly. The stool clattered and brought a few prying eyes their way.

Patton gave a patient smile and followed suit, standing up with more careful consideration. He placed a few gold coins on the table and gestured for them to head out. Remus was led once more by the offending line of rope (which more or less made him akin to a mere prize animal to be paraded around) and the three walked out, a cool breeze flowing past them.

Remy followed Patton over to a small alley, one full of barrels and one that stank of cigars. Already, Remus was tense and on high alert, looking around. His captor was also looking rather uneasy, as if they did not expect this interaction. They stopped before they could travel further into the dark area, causing Remus to hit them in their abruptness. The bounty hunter kept one discrete arm on their dagger, knees bent at a defensive position. “Where are you taking us?” they said tersely.

Patton hummed. “Back to my quarters, I told you in a place so ridden with crime, it ain’t safe for a sheriff like me to hang out in the open-”

“Cut the bullshit,” Remy snapped, his dagger out of its sheath and pointed towards their humble stranger. “If a single lie comes out of your mouth right now, you’re a dead man.”

It seemed Remy was rather observant, a trait Remus never was able to grasp. He didn’t understand the sudden aggression, nor the sudden accusation. A confused glance was sent his companion’s way, but they ignored it, keeping their nonexistent eyes trained on the bearded man in front of them.

Suddenly, that carefree smile slowly slipped away and Patton’s blue eyes seemed to turn a stormy gray. “I think, you’ll find, that  _ you’re _ the dead man here.”

Before Remus could blink, five different people pulled themselves away from the shadows. He heard the cocking of a gun and froze as five different pistols were pointed at him.

Remus couldn’t help but think ‘wow, who knew I was wanted  _ this _ badly’ and snickered softly to himself (most likely half in shock and half in disbelief), causing a few glances. Once his little fit had ended and Remus was able to screw his head back on properly, he wrapped a few thoughts and observations around his head. Surely if Patton were to hire enough men to ambush them, then Remus was most likely mighty important to him. Seeing as a sheriff probably wouldn’t have multiple outlaws at their beck and call (maybe they did, it wasn’t Remus’ place to say, but he was sure  _ most _ didn’t have such hitmen), there was a facade being presented to them. If Jan were here, he could have seen through that badge in an instant, able to tell whether it was real or not - but Jan wasn’t here, so Remus had to learn the hard way. They had been  _ duped _ . Embarrassing if he was being honest. But at least he knew Patton’s motive (blackmail most likely, or some sort of bargaining chip or interrogation puppet was probably Remus’ role in this whole charade) and he came to a nice conclusion.

They wouldn’t kill him, and he would use that to his advantage.

He ignored the following pistols as he moved away - as far as the rope would let him - and he held his hands up, humming with a smile. “So, you all want me? For what?”

Remy looked at him with murder in their eyes but Remus simply winked in their direction. As quickly as he could, he snatched the pistol from its snug holster in Remy’s possession, arming himself with it. Everyone immediately stepped back, but tensed; Remus could see out of the corner of his eye their fingers were just barely touching the trigger.

“Whoa, calm down,” Patton steadied. “You better be careful what you do next, son.”

“What are  _ you _ going to do, shoot me? You need me,” Remus reasoned, raising his eyebrow cockily. “If you don’t let us go, you’ll lose me  _ and _ your life.” He raised the firearm and pointed it, aiming for Patton’s head. He grinned a bit, seeing the man turn pale. 

“How about a deal? Except  _ I’ll _ deal the cards this time,” drawled the criminal, keeping his arm steady. “You let me get out of here, and you’ll be able to keep your brains. Don’t, and you lose both ways; you think your boys will be able to shoot me before I shoot you? You think I’ll survive such a situation?” He started walking about, being as careful as he could with his movements. “You’re probably thinkin’ ‘oh! I can just snab another of Jan’s crew’ but you really think he would let you? You probably know how Jan is, don’t you? That’s why you made this deal in the first place. There ain’t no  _ way _ you’d be able to get another one of his lackeys - without paying for it - which is most likely why you’re pointing guns at me, ain’t that right?

“Let me and my pal be on our way, and maybe you’ll be able to catch us another time - or don’t! It’s really your call.”

The gears were definitely turning now as Patton lowered his eyes to think, looking thoroughly conflicted. Someday, Remus would have to ask what sort of trouble Jan had dug up around these parts, but that was something to deal with at a later date. He clicked his tongue, moving his finger to the trigger. “Oh, did I mention this is a timed question? C’mon I don’t got all day.”

“Fine!” said Patton suddenly. He motioned for his men to lower their guns. Before Remus could make some kind of witty remark, Remy was already dragging him away, leaving a cloud of dust behind. Once he found his feet, he followed Remy in tandem, whooping a bit. No one seemed to be at the stables so the two hurried inside, trying not to make too much of a racket. After a quick double check of items, Remy pulled Remus up onto the steed and they snapped the reins, slamming out of the stables’ doors and back onto the road; Remus was getting quite used to these horse chases. He laughed once they were a good length away from the town, leaning against Remy in return.

“Wow, you  _ really _ don’t know how to strike deals, do you hunter?”

“How was I supposed to know he was a fraud?” spat Remy, looking sulky as they held onto the reins.

Remus chuckled and nudged their shoulder. “Seems like you’re new to this, ain’t ya? No wonder I never heard of you.”

“I still caught you in one go didn’t I?” they shot back. 

“Well you almost got  _ us _ caught in one go, didn’t you?”

At this they stiffened, sitting up straight. They didn’t seem keen on saying anything else.

Remus grumbled, then looked at the gun that was still - miraculously - in his hands. He looked up at the rider in front of him, then behind, at the town they ran from. Surely escaping now wouldn’t be the best idea - with no horse, no weapons, or anything really. He was still exhausted from the trek earlier, and he didn’t feel like trekking some more. He pocketed the gun, securing it. He could escape some other time, when he was fully rested.

Yeah, some other time, for sure.


	3. Slow Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew a western desert would be really hot and dry?

Talking seemed to be forbidden on this never ending journey.

It used to be allowed, but when Remus couldn’t stop blabbing on and on and  _ on _ , Remy stayed silent to his responses, and so they were left without a single noise to fill the silence.

Remus was slowly being driven insane and wondered if this was a sort of punishment given to him by the gods - maybe it was. He tried incessantly to annoy his captor, but they paid him no mind and continued to steer the horse, watching the horizon and their surroundings in their spare time. It was surprising how much restraint the hunter could possess when they wanted to.

All Remus could do was bang his head against Remy as if they were a wall and silently wish for death. The monotony of the desert and the flat landscape didn’t make his ‘I spy’ game fun at all (ignoring the fact that right now it was only a one person game anyways). How anyone could keep their mouth shut for this long amazed him, and he half wished he had such a power; the other half insisted on strangling the person in front of him just to hear a peep come out of that quiet throat.

2 days.

The encounter with fake-sheriff Patton seemed to rattle the new bounty hunter quite a bit, and they had spent the last few days trekking on and on with no stop to rest. They even spotted another town, but Remy insisted on passing by, not wanting any trace of them anywhere near a large populace. It was killing Remus, so much so he was even beginning to miss the tent floor, the rocky, cold, tent floor.

He whimpered as they continued, apologizing to the horse when he could (he was sure the poor animal was just as exhausted and tired as he was, but Remy was feeding her most of their rations anyways, so maybe he should have been more envious of the animal).

The sun was setting, casting Remus in a warm, orange glow that hit his eyes uncomfortably. He turned away from the glare, trying to sleep off the dread building up inside him but he couldn’t seem to get situated, his legs complaining at the extended period of sitting and his back aching the longer he sat. He mustered enough strength to hit Remy’s shoulder. “Are we going to stop for the night?” he asked, his voice raspy and dry. He rubbed his eyes, waiting for a response that would never come.

It was at this point, the horse stopped, not moving at all. She ignored the reins trying to urge her forward and stood still. Slowly, she started to rock her riders off her, causing both of them to startle. Remus fell off first, his muscles already weak and tired. He hit the ground with an ‘oomph’. The ground felt okay - more than okay, he’d never wanted to sleep on the ground so bad - and he curled up in a comfortable position, relaxing.

The rope that was tied to the horn of the saddle kept getting caught in Remy’s arms as they struggled to hold onto their steed, and with a slip of their fingers, they fell beside, shaking their head. They rose quickly, but Remus shot an arm out, pulling them back down beside him. 

“She ain’t moving,” he slurred, his eyes heavy. “You worked her too hard - now lay down and  _ sleep _ ,” he insisted.

Remy easily extracted their arm from Remus’ limp grasp and made a noise of frustration. They tried mounting the horse once more but the animal reared back, whinnying warningly. She stomped her hooves into the ground, kicking up dust and grit.

There was a look of desperation and defeat on Remy’s face as Remus pulled them back down beside him. “I think you need a rest too,” he remarked. He couldn’t see the tell-tale signs of fatigue like bags underneath their eyes, but he could tell from the sallow lines in their face they were probably on the brink of exhaustion. Remus - unkindly - shoved their head down beside his, trying to ignore the struggling. He wrapped himself around the hunter, keeping them pinned to the ground. 

“Sleep you bastard,” he mumbled, trying to bear through the sharp nudges of their elbows and the kicks of their knees. He held on defiantly, and sagged with relief as they slowly stopped, growing limp in his hold. He forced himself to keep awake until he was sure his captor was sleeping; and when he felt the slow, even breathing of an unconscious figure, he too joined them and fell asleep.

\------

Surprisingly, Remus was the one who woke up first.

He looked at the startlingly peaceful hunter in his arms and almost regretted having to move them.

He shoved them away anyways.

He stretched - god did he need that - and yawned, ignoring the burn of the ropes on his hands. He got up, putting his hands on his hips and bending backwards, groaning as his back popped a bit at the action. He heard some rustling and turned towards the stirring hunter, glaring a bit down at them. “Rise ‘n shine sleeping beauty!” he called, clapping a bit. 

“Oh fuck you,” Remy roused, their voice gravelly and just the slightest bit attractive-

Remus would ignore that tidbit of information thank you very much.

He walked over to the horse, who looked a lot better than she did the night before. He pet her snout gently, smiling a bit when she pressed into his hands. Reaching around behind her, he reached into a satchel hanging off the saddle. He dug around before pulling out an apple - not in the best condition since they’d been trekking in the hot desert, but at least it wasn’t rotted. He took a big bite out of it before handing the rest to the horse, who happily ate the rest. 

He put his hands on his hips, breathing out a low breath. What now? He turned and looked back to the steadily sleeping hunter, brow furrowed with irritation. Perhaps, seeing as Remy’s guard was down, he reckoned he should devise a plan. There should definitely be a sort of dagger in one of these bags was what Remus thought as he rummaged through the bags. He found the fruit knife and made quick work of his ropes, hissing and wincing a bit as red indents lined his wrists. He looked back over at the still-resting hunter and thought quickly. What could he do? Taking the horse was always an option, seeing as she didn't hate him too much. He had their gun, their horse, their small fruit dagger - he could leave.

He could have.

But then there was a rough hand that grabbed his forearm abruptly, twisting it until the knife fell from his grasp. He gasped and winced as his arm was twisted back behind him, the muscles straining and trembling.

“You weren’t going to do what I thought you were, were you?” Remy hissed lowly into his ear, their hand twisting more harshly.

Remus shook his head rapidly, crying out as the pinpricks of pain grew to a large flaming flare. “No! No! Of course not! I wasn’t going to do that!” he said, laughing nervously.

Remy held him there for another few moments before finally letting go, Remus sighing as his arm was released and the blood flow rushed back. The hunter cuffed him on the side of his head before yanking him down, his legs obliging and sending him straight into the dirt. He groaned, blinking blearily as Remy got a new set of rope, heading over to him. They roughly pressed his head down, nearly eating the dirt and keeping it in place. Then, they tied the rope around his neck, making it snug enough to not come loose, but not too tight that it would choke him. Then they secured and tied his wrists together behind him at the small of his back with the same rope, connecting them.

When Remy pulled back, Remus gave an experimental tug with his hands, scowling as the rope pressed into his windpipe.

Stupid bounty hunter.

He watched as Remy dusted themselves off, looking through the bags secured on the mare. They picked up the fruit knife, wiping it on their breeches before pocketing it back where it belonged. Then Remy looked at Remus - well, he said look, but more like generally faced in Remus’ direction - and walked over, looking intimidating as ever.

“That pistol,” they growled. “Where is it?”

“What pistol?” Remus remarked rather dumbly.

It earned him a kick to the stomach and he wheezed. “Left pocket,” he got out, hating himself.

Remy patted Remus down (which would have been pleasant if not for the given circumstances) and fished the pistol from its hiding place.

“I ought to put a bullet in you for your little charade,” they said, sneering and raising the firearm up at Remus. “What do you say? Maybe your arm? Maybe your jaw, then I don’t have to listen to your senseless blathering.”

The wiley man shifted and sat up. “As if you could deal without it,” Remus shot back.

“Oh I’m sure I could,” Remy said, pressing the cool metal to the side of the slack-jawed man’s chin. “Perhaps you want to test that theory?”

It was still and silent, neither daring to move. Even the mare stayed still, most likely sensing the tension that cut into the atmosphere. Remus didn’t breathe, meeting Remy’s eyes with the same ferocity as theirs, almost daring them to do it; yes he was terrified, but damn him if he couldn’t act like he could stand his ground.

The touch of the metal started searing, feeling more like a hot cast of iron pressing into his skin. He kept his tremors steady and urged Remy as willingly as he could.

There was the slightest shake of the armed hand, before the weapon retracted. Remy seethed and shot the ground, nearly hitting Remus’ leg. They trembled a bit and returned the pistol back into their holster, securing it. They didn’t bother to help Remus up and went back to his steed, seeming to busy themselves.

Remus took note of their quivering and slowly got his knees under him and stood up. He coughed a bit to ease the silence and walked a bit closer to Remy, noticing their flinch as he approached. “Where to next?” he asked, trying his best to sound as unbothered as possible.

“The next biggest town,” Remy got out, their voice rough. They mounted the horse quickly before realizing Remus couldn’t board without some difficulty. They sighed with exasperation and helped Remus up onto the saddle, sitting him down with no little gentleness. Then they slid in front of him near awkwardly, their back pressed against his chest. Remus tried his best to ignore the touch and looked down at the sand as the horse started moving again. 

(He also pointedly ignored the muscles that flexed as Remy snapped the reins).

The universe decided to take pity on him today, it seemed. They found some canyons around mid-day, effectively blocking the sun’s glare. Remus was eternally grateful, seeing as he was nearly stuck to Remy with all the sweat he was producing. He tried to quiet his panting, but with a low supply of water and the constant stream of hot air blowing into his face, he couldn’t do much.

The horse didn’t seem too good either at this point, and it forced Remy to stop them, the three settling in some shade provided by the canyon’s cliffs. While there was a somewhat steady supply of vegetation for the tired mare, water was nowhere in sight - which was to be expected.

Remus couldn’t help but quip, “For a good bounty hunter you’re rather ill-equipped, aren’t ya?” 

And like a moron, he didn’t stop there.

“You were able to catch  _ me _ , and yet, at the slightest turn of inconvenience, you bolt like a frightened dog; all bark and no bite it seems.” He gave a laugh, one that was half hysterical and half genuine; maybe the heat was getting to him. “I mean, you couldn’t even threaten to  _ kill _ me right-”

A bandaged hand grabbed his bandana roughly, pulling him close. 

“You really,  _ really _ like to push buttons, don’t cha?” they near growled. Remus shivered as their breath touched his cheek.

“It's not that I like to do so on purpose,” he breathed. “You’re just real easy to egg on.”

\------

Patience was strung thin and the sun still beamed down with purpose.

Remus tried his best to favor his side, seeing as Remy punched him a couple of times (even after their scuffle). The wound from a few weeks back had healed, but the area was still sore. There would be a nasty bruise later on if Remus would get the chance to even check. He was a real work of art - he knew it. His lip was swollen and cut and he was pretty sure he had a nosebleed now, but he didn’t know if that was caused by the skirmish or by the dry heat and lack of moisture. 

He didn’t try and remove himself from Remy’s back, letting the blood seep into the fabric of the hunter’s shoulder out of spite. He gave a small hum as the aforementioned shoulder drove right into his chin, causing his teeth to clatter painfully in his skull.

“Don’t tell me we’re lost in the canyons,” Remus babbled, his eyes heading skyward. Framing his vision were the tall, cascading builds or rock.

“We are  _ not _ lost in the canyons,” Remy said, but they sounded as if they were trying to reassure themselves.

Remus let out a wet groan. He would have laughed had it not hurt him more than it served him. His lungs were burning it and the dry, dusty, air bunched up in his throat, causing him to choke from the lack of moisture anywhere but in his mouth. As the blood slowly dripped down from his upper lip, Remus brought a tongue up to taste, a rather inane thing to do, but his mind wasn’t quite his own in this moment.

He heard a wince of disgust, then he felt a halt. Then he heard a long groan.

Suddenly he was shifted, the weight in front of him slipping away, which was far too fast for his slowed reaction time. He very nearly hit the rocky ground face first before Remy caught him, putting an arm around him.

“Keep your wits about you,” rasped the tired companion. Remus blinked in response, making a noise of understanding. Remy took one look at him and sneered. They bunched up Remus’ bandana in their hands and used the fabric to wipe away the near-dried blood on his face.

“Gross,” they snorted. Remy then turned and took ahold of the mare’s reins, walking her. At first she wouldn’t move, but she had to comply with the insistent tugs and pulls.

And so they were walking now. Great. 

Remus was half-awake, the journey on foot thoroughly unmemorable. 

Remy was practically dragging everyone across the canyon’s stretches, and that seemed to wear down on them rather quickly. They trekked for the rest of the day, not having anywhere to stop - what with the terrain and the various amounts of potential dangers lurking around each nook and cranny - and they didn’t cease their monotonous pace until nightfall.

The cool night breeze was amazing and Remus all but collapsed in the makeshift campsite that Remy had - slowly - put together. He took the soft mat Remy usually would have taken had they been in the tent and he stretched like a lazy lap cat (well, as best he could anyway, with his bounded hands and neck) curling up in the right position, his eyes already heavy.

But a hand yanked him back up and out of the confines of the tent, a shrill shout ensuing.

“Hey! What the hell! I was tryna settle in-”

“Stop your wriggling unless you want to choke yourself on accident,” growled his captor.. They reached into a bag that was opened beside them and pulled out a small container. They twisted the cap open and revealed a sort of salve, greenish in color, and they dipped their hands into it, dabbing at it, before raising their fingers to Remus’ lips.

“Whoa whoa! I’m not gonna let you poison me!” he said, scrambling back as best he could.

Remy brought their free hand to the captive’s ponytail, grasping it firm enough to keep Remus in place. 

“Stop your squirming, I’m just helping with the wounds you got from our scuffle.” They sounded as if this were a favor they were engaging in begrudgingly.

With subsequent disbelief freezing Remus’ movements, Remy went ahead and proceeded with their task, putting the salve onto the split lip. Then they grabbed out another salve, setting it beside them next to their knee; Remus was now in a more compromisable position, his legs crossed in front of him as he watched patiently. They did not make a move to unscrew the new ointment, simply leaving it accessible.

The hunter brought their arms around him and Remus wondered if this was going to be some awkward embrace that was initiated by the possible heatstroke Remy could have endured (they wear so many layers, how are they even alive?) but then he felt the binds from his wrists slipping.

Remus could feel that gaze, the one you couldn’t see and the one that couldn’t exist but still bore into you. He froze on instinct, but he wasn’t going anywhere.

With surprisingly gentle hands, Remy’s fingertips brushed over the marks leftover by the rope. Their fingers had already scooped up a new batch of salve and it was gently smeared on the inflamed skin.

Much like their eyes, Remy’s fingers were incredibly distinctive - calloused and rough around the edges, but familiar with their nature; they knew how much pressure to apply when necessary and never applied too much lest it hurt the occupant it was visiting. The same fingers that left Remus a mess like this, and the same fingers that caught him, with a sure, steady digit on the trigger, shooting him down.

He focused on the motions, on how it seemed to calm the slight burning sensation. He shivered as they moved onto the next hand, carefully applying. Their technique didn’t seem too methodical - more easing and relaxing - and Remus found himself lost in that, that steady motion against his wrists.

It ended all too quickly, but then Remy tapped a clean finger against his shoulder, tilting their head. 

“Have any bruises? Might as well treat those,” they said, sounding bored, as if this were some menial chore. But Remus saw the second batch of ointment.

“Ribs, and the side you shot me in,” Remus got out, his voice a whisper.

Remy nodded and started taking off what layers he could, careful not to wander. Remus tried his best to stay still, floundering a bit, but eventually settling.

The hunter lifted Remus' shirt, a small patch of bandages wrapped around his mid torso coming into view. Putting away the first salve, Remy opened the second one, using only one finger to apply this time.

It was more oily, thinner - reassembled a liquid more than a salve. But having it rubbed into his bruised ribs made Remus melt.

He leaned against his temporary healer, focusing on the motions of firm circles being rubbed into his skin. Firm enough to ease the muscles but not too hard to leave more bruises.

Very skilled fingers indeed.

After those blissful few moments, Remy finally moved on to the bandages, unwrapping them with an efficiency that Remus  _ really _ wanted to tease them about, but he could barely think straight, much less form words.

The wound healed nicely - stitches had already been removed by the last medic they’d seen in some nameless town - but it would definitely leave a scar. Not that Remus would complain. The muscle was still tender there so Remy was a lot more generous with their ministrations here, taking more time to ease the oil into his skin.

Remus yawned a bit, closing his eyes - for just a little bit, a little only.

When he awoke it was morning, his hands were unbound, his skin smelled like nice herbs, and he was face to face with a sleeping hunter.


End file.
